Swept By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance-Highlander Forever Book 3

by Preston, Rebecca

  She took a deep, shuddering breath as she detached herself from the hug, already embarrassed about breaking down like that. She wasn’t a woman who showed her emotions so strongly as that — at least, not when it came to vulnerable feelings like sadness. It was probably something she got from her father. “Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

  “Give some thought to what you want to say to them. And… I guess to what you want your life here to be,” she added, shrugging a little. “I know it’s overwhelming. But… you have a lot of skills from the old world that I think you could use here.”

  “I guess so. It’s kind of hard to think about,” she said, shrugging helplessly. “What kind of cop can I be here, really?”

  “Same kind you were back home. A damn good one.” Anna smiled, getting to her feet. “But right now, I reckon we should both go to bed. Another good night’s sleep should banish the rest of that sickness. Besides, you’ve got a fair bit of digesting to do,” Anna added with amusement. “I haven’t seen a woman eat like that since my Army days.”

  “I had a lot of catching up to do,” Elena protested, but she was grinning.

  They said goodnight in the hallway and headed off to separate staircases, Elena’s mind still occupied with everything that had been revealed. So it wasn’t a question of just popping back through time to go back home to her apartment… and the fall down the stairs hadn’t been so benign. God, to think that was what had killed her. Being a cop was a dangerous job. She’d done plenty of thinking about her own mortality, about how she was likely to go out… but she hadn’t thought it would be so early in her career. To die at twenty-seven… that didn’t seem fair at all.

  Of course, she hadn’t died, had she? The Sidhe had decided that wasn’t going to happen. The Sidhe had pulled her right back through and popped her into a new world entirely. A kind of second chance at life… a Get Out of Death Free card. She giggled to herself as she walked down the corridor to her room, almost dizzy with gratitude (but not, she hoped, with the return of her illness — no, it was just gratitude. Aside from a bit of sleepiness from her enormous dinner, she was just fine.) It sucked that she’d died… it sucked to be permanently separated from her family, from her father and brothers and nieces and nephews. But it could have been so much worse, she realized, thinking back to the feeling of the steps breaking under her, of the sharp fall into steep, dark nothingness. She could be dead for good.

  Instead, she was here. And though medieval Scotland was weird — it was cold, there was no television, she missed hot showers something fierce and the inconvenience of not having indoor plumbing was absolutely infuriating — it beat the hell out of being dead. She’d just have to keep that in mind whenever things got tough — You could be dead, Elena.

  And with those thoughts in mind, she drifted into a restful sleep.

  Maybe it was the conversation with Anna that had stirred up the memories, but Elena found herself in a very curious state. It was somewhere between dreaming and remembering — she felt oddly suspended inside the memory she was living, as though she was almost — but not quite — awake. It had a dreamlike quality, but she was aware that she was dreaming — which, in her experience, tended to be a realization that woke her up. But not this time. This time, the dream kept going.

  She was surrounded by tall, elegant figures who seemed to glow with light. In the background, she could hear low voices, speaking in a language she found utterly unfamiliar. It was a little like Gaelic, the strange language Brendan had spoken when he read the title of a book to her, but not the same… and the voices speaking it were unearthly. Beautiful, but not human by any stretch of the imagination. Why was she so sure that that was the case?

  She realized that their long, elegant limbs were touching her — their hands, or what would have been hands if they were human, were ghosting along her limbs. And as she looked down, she realized with a shock that her body was badly battered. Her legs looked broken in several places, her arms also unnaturally bent and twisted, and there was blood all over her. What had happened? How on earth was she still alive? But as she watched, the creatures touched each wound, one at a time with incredible patience… and every time they touched her flesh, the skin seemed to heal, the blood disappearing, the torn and battered flesh replaced with whole, unmarked skin. They were healing her, she realized dizzily. Healing her, with some sort of magic…

  But where was she? She was surrounded by darkness — her mind began to panic as she tried to figure out the nature of the space she was in, to no avail. It was too big, too strange and confusing… she could feel that there was some kind of door behind her, but it was like no door she’d ever seen. She just sensed on some level that it led out of the space, away from the creatures who were touching her, gently caressing her terrible injuries away. But how had she gotten them? Could this be … could this be a memory of the day she’d fallen through the staircase? The injuries on her body — or at least, the injuries that had been on her body before the glowing figures got to them — seemed consistent with a fall from a great height.

  But where was she? And — panic began beating in her chest like a drum — how on earth was she going to get out of here?

  Chapter 26

  Elena tried to calm herself down. She couldn’t figure out whether this was a dream or a memory — but either way, it felt very much like a real situation she was living through for the first time. But how could that be? If it was a dream, she should just be able to wake up and snap out of it, to return to her cozy bed in the castle. If it was a memory, why did she feel so trapped inside it? And why did she have no idea what was going to happen next?

  The figures had almost finished healing her — as she looked down at her body, she realized that the blood was gone, the wounds almost vanished. One long, slender glowing finger touched her sternum, and she felt a strange sensation deep inside her chest, as though something was knitting together… A broken rib, she thought dizzily. The figure was healing a broken rib. How on earth were they doing that? What kind of power allowed them to mend human flesh like they were knitting up a hole in a sweater? And why had they chosen her to give this gift to?

  Suddenly, there was a strangeness in the air — something new, something that hadn’t been there before. It wasn’t exactly a sound, because sound didn’t travel here the way she was used to, but it was certainly a disturbance. Something was happening… something that was drawing the attention of the figures that surrounded her. There were maybe half a dozen of them, maybe more — it was difficult to keep count when they kept moving and shifting, and besides, none of them seemed to have any distinguishing features that she could put her finger on. They were just… shapes, indistinct shapes.

  Shapes who were leaving her. As she watched, they moved away, clearly investigating the disturbance she’d heard — and, bracing herself, she sat up, almost not trusting that the terrible wounds she’d seen on her body had actually healed. It felt strange, to move in this place — as though there was something wrong with gravity. It was simultaneously easier and harder to move her body, and she stared down at her body, trying to take solace in the one thing here that she recognized. Could this be… she bit her lip, trying to look around and understand what she was seeing. Could this be the world of the Fae?

  There were definite sounds of alarm happening in the direction the figures had gone. She rose to her feet, trying to move in that direction to see what was happening — but she was distracted by the hissing of a familiar voice. This one was speaking English, she realized — the language sounded strange and out-of-place here.

  “Come with me if you want to survive,” the voice hissed.

  Who was it? She followed it instinctively, fear suddenly taking root in her chest. The glowing figures… were they going to hurt her? But they’d been healing her… still, the voice sounded terrified, and she followed it instinctively. They were moving, though she couldn’t get a sense of where they were moving to, or from… all she knew was that there was some ki
nd of door coming up.

  “Go. I’ll follow,” the voice murmured.

  Elena nodded, bracing herself before she moved through the door… and found herself suddenly immersed in icy water.

  And then she was sitting bolt upright in bed, gasping for breath, her whole body shivering with the shock of the memory of that freezing cold water, even though the room was as cozy and warm as ever. Her heart was pounding — she stared wildly around her, trying to get her bearings. This was her room, in the castle. There was her little fire, almost burned out, there were her boots by the door… she was back home. Slowly, her heartbeat settled, and she tried to figure out what on earth that dream had been. Not a dream, she knew on some level, a powerful instinct telling her that that had been a memory. That had happened to her. But why hadn’t she remembered? Had her mind blocked it out? That happened with victims of traumatic crimes sometimes, she knew, thinking back with a shudder to a little girl she’d interviewed early in her career. There had been a terrible house fire, and her captain thought the little girl might have some insight into how it had started… but she barely remembered her name, let alone the events of the evening. Trauma, that was the problem.

  Had Elena been traumatized, in that strange place she’d occupied? She frowned, trying to remember what had happened before it… she’d fallen through the stairs, then awoken in that place, surrounded by those glowing figures as they healed her copious wounds. Was it possible that the shock of sustaining life-threatening injuries had wiped her memory? What had brought it back now? Was it Anna, telling her that she’d have died if it wasn’t for the Sidhe’s interference? Her heart jolted hard in her chest. Had those been the Sidhe? Nancy and Anna had both described them as glowing, otherworldly figures who seemed to be made out of light… yes, that had been them, alright.

  Then who had spoken to her? Who had caused the commotion that had distracted them — who had brought her into the depths of the lake? She stared at the ceiling, almost not wanting to believe the conclusion she was drawing. It had been Una, hadn’t it? Una had been the one who grabbed her arm and pulled her to the surface… Una had guided her to the shore, even pulled her out of the lake. And Una, it seemed, had gotten her out of the Fae world. She had sounded so frightened — as though, without her help, Elena might have suffered some terrible fate at the hands of the Sidhe.

  Why hadn’t she told her? she wondered. They’d had a couple of conversations — she’d had every opportunity to explain that she’d not only saved her from the lake, she’d also saved her from the world of the Fae. Why had she kept it to herself? Maybe she realized that Elena had repressed the memory… was trying to spare her the trauma of remembering how badly she’d been injured. Elena frowned at the ceiling. She’d been assuming that Una was a local woman — how had she gotten to the Fae world? What had she been doing there? And what about the Sidhe had made her sound so afraid, so desperate to escape?

  It was the middle of the night, Elena knew — there were stars peeking through her window. It would be freezing outside in the middle of the night with no sun to warm her. But Una had said that if Elena came outside the castle walls at night, she’d be there. And Elena had too many questions to just lay there in bed until the sun rose. So with determination in her movements, she jumped out of bed, putting on a few extra layers of clothing to keep out the cold. She had to talk to Una. Had to find out what had been going on when she came through. Because if Una knew more than she was letting on about the Fae world… it was possible that she might know a way back home.

  Her heart pounding with anticipation, she hurried down the dark, empty corridor of the castle, heading for the stairs. She’d head down to the docks and see if Una was there — that was where she’d always appeared before. Besides, there were always fewer guards posted on that side of the castle… and though Elena didn’t exactly feel like she was doing something wrong, there was still a part of her that didn’t want any of the guards to know what she was doing. Even Brendan, she thought with a guilty twinge in her chest. She couldn’t help but be worried by what Una had said about men — about how they often waited to reveal their true selves, deceiving their victims … why was she suddenly thinking of herself as a victim of men? Was that accurate? She never liked to consider herself a victim… but she had to admit, men had done her a lot of damage… did Una have a point about avoiding men?

  She shook her head. Una’s bizarre brand of feminist politics was the least of her concern right now. She was going to go and find that strange, feral, nocturnal friend of hers and get some information about where she’d come from, what had happened in that bizarre other world, and whether there was any hope of getting back.

  It was freezing cold in the courtyard, and she shivered a little, grateful that she’d worn a few extra layers of clothing. She could make out the guards walking back and forth on top of the wall by the bright points their torches made against the dark night sky — she waited for a gap to open up by the stairwell that led to the docks, then made her way down as quickly as she could, the effort of walking warming her up. It was pretty stupid of her to go out in such cold air when she was only just recovering from her sickness, she knew — but she couldn’t have just stayed in bed. Not when she had so many questions about the memory — the dream — she’d just experienced.

  Una was there. Somehow, Elena wasn’t even surprised to see her — it was like they’d arranged this meeting in advance. She was standing down the end of their usual dock, her long red hair stirred ever so gently by the wind, that too-long green dress of hers rumpled around her feet. Elena had never seen her feet, she realized with amusement. Was she barefoot under there? That wouldn’t be practical, exactly, in a place like this… but Una never had seemed to follow the rules of the land.

  “Elena,” Una purred when she saw her, reaching out with one long, slender finger to tap her gently on the forehead. “Here you are, here I am.”

  “You were waiting for me,” Elena said softly, staring at her. Amazing, that they were precisely the same height. It made her feel closer to her, somehow.

  “I felt you,” Una said brightly, her voice like the wind across the lake. “I felt you needed to ask me something.”

  “I had a dream,” Elena started, unsurely.

  But Una shook her head. “Not a dream.”

  “A memory? A vision, I guess. I was asleep, and then I was awake… I was covered in blood, so badly injured, in so much pain I could barely think about it…” She shuddered, remembering the sight of her body, so broken and twisted as she looked down at it. “And there were figures, all around me. These strange, glowing figures. I think… Una, do you know about the Sidhe?”

  Had Una recoiled at the sound of that word? There was certainly a wary, watchful look in her face, like a wild animal confronted with flame. “The Sidhe,” she repeated, and the word was clearly distasteful to her. “I know them. I know them well.”

  “They saved me, I think.”

  “I saved you,” Una said sharply. “I brought you through the door. Pulled you from the lake. Brought you here, to human friends, to hearth and home and warmth and light. I saved you.”

  “You did, you did,” Elena said, taking her hands in hers and squeezing them. Freezing cold, those hands, as cold as the night air — but Una was smiling, clearly warmed by the gesture, so Elena kept hold of her hands. “Of course you did. I’m still so grateful, Una. Truly.”

  “The Sidhe took you,” Una explained, clearly a little mollified. “They took you, from your home, from the faraway place.” Her eyes seemed to glow in the moonlight as she searched for something, a word — “From Bal-ti-more.”

  Elena took a sharp breath. She couldn’t remember telling Una where she was from — the fact that she knew the name of the city, an unfamiliar city on the other side of the world, probably not even built yet... it just confirmed Elena’s suspicion that Una knew more than she’d previously let on. “They — took me? I thought they saved me. I fell down some stairs… Anna sai
d I’d have died if the Sidhe hadn’t pulled me into their world.”

  “You fell down some stairs,” Una repeated, wrinkling her nose. “They happened to know, they happened to see you, happened to take you. Why did you fall down the stairs, Elena Cross?”

  She stared at her. “Are you saying … they did that, too?” That didn’t make sense. From what Anna had said, the Sidhe didn’t have much control over what happened in the human world… did they?

  “They keep humans,” Una was saying, a bitter twist to her face. “They keep them as pets, Elena, keep them and play with them like dolls. Like pets. Toy with them, torture them… whatever strikes their fancy. Then they spit them back into the world when they grow tired of them.”

  Elena reeled a little, remembering what Maeve had told her about her own experiences in the Fae world. She’d said it had been like a dream… had she been played with, a toy for the amusement of these otherworldly creatures? It didn’t seem that way.

  “I had been prisoner for longer than I know,” Una said softly. “Bound, captive, tormented, starved of light and air and nourishment… but when they brought you in, they were distracted. I seized my chance. But I saw your face, and I knew I had to save you. I used the last scraps of my strength to cause a commotion, to distract them long enough to bring you out into the world, here. To free us both from being their playthings.”

  “They were healing me,” Elena said, deeply troubled by this radical new interpretation of what had happened. Weren’t the Sidhe benevolent? Hadn’t they brought her through to save her life — to fulfill some important purpose here in Scotland? Had they truly been intending to keep her as some kind of pet?

  “Oh, yes. It suited them to have you in a healed body, so they healed you. Maybe later, they’d give you a tail, if it amused them. Take your legs away. Give you extra legs. Change your face, change your body, change the color of your eyes…” Elena thought of Maeve’s pale silver eyes, and swallowed hard. “Never mistake the whims of the Sidhe for benevolence, Elena. It’s the worst mistake you can make.”